The Sunken Spring
by MeridianPine
Summary: Underneath a crack, is a calamity barely sealed away. It's said that hundreds of thousands of titans disappeared almost a thousand years ago. After an earthquake, people start going missing. Someone will make the ultimate sacrifice, and this tale will end in a clap of thunder, and a flash of lightning.
1. Chance

_**Well hello there!**_

 _ **I am MeridianPine, a fanfiction writer looking to expand his repertoire. I've been a fan of AOT for a long time, and wanted to create something that I could actually enjoy reading. You barely see any fanfics with the Curse of Ymir or any of the other rules and discoveries about the titans.**_

 _ **I intend to change that.**_

 _ **The Sunken Spring**_ does not _**involve any of the characters from Isayama's manga.**_

 _ **It does, however, feature his creations, the Titans.**_

Without any further ado, here is the first chapter of _**The Sunken Spring.**_

The Sunken Spring: Chapter One

Chapter One: Chance

A dusty, unpaved road lead a young man in his early twenties to the University. Despite it being unpaved, it was completely smooth, with no irregularities. Lined by forest and swampland, the dust came only from the road, as it degraded.

The workers would be out later that night to smooth it over, and the process would be repeated the next day.

He was too poor to afford a car to get there, but the government had recognized his talent, and granted him a scholarship.

There were reasons he had received the scholarship aside from his academic prowess and the paper he'd written.

He was slightly above average height, and relatively attractive.

Mark's nose was a little too large for his liking, but his dark brown hair was combed back nicely.

He might have been a commoner, but he didn't have to look completely like one.

Mark Eldridge, as that was his full name, was forced to walk two hours each day to reach his university.

It had all of the modern amenities. Phones, hot **and** running water, and even new microwave technology, which his mother said would fry him if he got too close.

But Mark knew better. He had a brilliant mind on his shoulders. The government had discovered him and his brilliance when his hypothesis on the "Birth rate and size of Eldian infants when compared to other nationalities" went public.

They had recruited him on the spot, and sent him to public housing near the world's top university.

It was a modest, gated community of a few hundred. Mostly government employees and road workers. But aside from them, there were a few more people like Mark. Commoners allowed scholarships with the contractual promise to work for the government as their career upon their graduation from the University.

The University of Inkwell. Sponsored by the royalty of the Eldians, the Inkwell family, it was the premier place in the entire world to study.

Black and white marble formed its exterior structure, with pillars and vast walls surrounding its perimeter.

As Mark made his way across the flawless lawn of the University, he was sneered at. The women turned away, chuckling. The men pointed and laughed outright at his pauper's clothes.

" _Damn. I know I'm poor, but it's not like I'm that bad."_ he thought as he signed in, " _at least I'm clean."_

He pulled the map of the university out of his pocket; this only being his second day, he hadn't had some of his courses yet. Past the mess hall was a cluster of lecture halls. He was heading for 12B, in the history wing.

" _So today's class is History Pertaining to Titans. What gibberish. We haven't had a pure titan appear for thousands of years, so what is this going to teach us?"_

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

"Now, as some of you may already know, there are nine "titan shifters" spread across the world. Usually, they are held by the royalty and passed down whenever the offspring reaches a certain age. Those who use the 'power of the titans' must inflict some form of self-harm upon themselves to transform. Whether its by tooth or blade, the transformation itself reportedly requires the drawing of blood."

After that, Mark started to tune the professor, Mr. Glaive, out. There was no point in listening unless he was teaching them something new, like _what_ the 'titan shifters' were.

Looking around at the people nearest to him, was a conglomerate of the elite and middle class.

And then there was another one.

Someone wearing unrecognizable clothes. A young woman, wearing an odd garment.

She was blonde, and short.

Her body appeared to be rather thin. Aside from one older man, no one sat near her aside from Mark; he didn't think anything of it when she looked back at him.

Thinking back to the lecture, Mark thought about the nine 'titan shifters'.

" _They're such a fucking secret. We don't even know what they look like,"_ Mark thought, internally embittered. And then the professor said something that snapped all of the students out of their reveries.

"...And the textbook has an article, though brief, explaining one of the 'titan shifters'. Please read pages 209 through 210 tonight, and answer questions 2-7. At the end of this course, you will all be writing a paper on the military importance of this specific titan, and how timing its transformation is so critical. Class is dismissed."

Mark had already looked at the pages before being told to pack up, and his eyes had widened.

" _ **This article is sponsored by the Mao-Zheng, as an insight to their military might."**_

The article's title was:

"The Colossus Titan."

There was a picture next to the article, of a giant, partially skinless titan, standing on a battlefield. The photograph appeared to have been taken from a aeroplane.

The way the Colossus loomed over everything made Mark shiver in fear.

In the picture, it leered back over its shoulder, with a chilling glare towards the camera.

Behind it was a massive crater, which was still crawling with bolts of lightning.

'A true god of destruction,' the article said.

" _Indeed,"_ was all that Mark could think.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

As he went back north on the access road to his home away from home, a strange car passed him. It was sleek, and dare he say it, new?

The new Torcaza. He'd seen it in one of his father's car magazines.

As it passed him, he made eye contact with the person in the passenger seat.

A young blonde woman.

Lightning flashed behind his eyes, blinding him.

The blood in his veins churned and moved in unnatural ways, forcing him into a stance not dissimilar to the kowtow.

As he got up and dusted himself off, the car slowed to a stop a few hundred feet away.

And the passenger door opened.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

She was upon him within two minutes, her slow approach unsettling. It was almost as though she had all of the time in the world.

"Hello. I'm sorry for what happened when I passed you. I thought I had it under control, but from what happened to you, it appears that my control is incomplete." She reached her hand out, smiling sheepishly.

"Maura. And you would be?"

He shook her hand.

"I'm Mark Eldridge. Nice to meet you. Do you go to Inkwell? You look pretty familiar." He said, scrutinizing her face for any sign of someone he knew. And then he realized who she was, with widening eyes. She was the one from his Titan History course.

She frowned, as if remembering something unpleasant.

"Yes. I think we share the Titan History course, as boring as it is. Didn't you write the one article comparing the size and birth rate of Eldian children over time," she asked, pushing some hair out of her face, and tapping her foot oddly.

"You think that course is boring? Titans are the most interesting thing I have ever had a chance to study. And yes," he said, blushing, "that was my breakthrough work that got me recognized by the Inkwell's. It's all anyone will talk about when I introduce myself."

"Ahhh…" she acknowledged, "I did rather enjoy reading your work...But I have to go. I'll see you on Thursday, I suppose?" she asked, almost seeming hopeful, even while awkwardly excusing herself.

"Yes. I'm certain you will see me, considering that I'm too poor to afford missing a class and getting my scholarship canceled."

There was an odd look in her eyes then, as she turned away.

"See you then."

Author's Note: Please review! I need feedback really badly.

Signing off;

Alexander, aka MeridianPine.


	2. Colossus

The Sunken Spring: Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Colossus

As the golden hour just barely graced Mark's body, he arrived back to the public housing he'd been assigned to.

The entire place was made of grey mortar and red brick, with small windows. Tall wrought-iron gates fronted each of the individual condominiums. The windows had frosted glass, enhancing what little privacy the residents had.

The pavement under his feet was for the benefit of the residents, as some of them had cars and bicycles.

The path he walked on was one of two in the complex, as there were three rows of condominiums, each identical.

The houses with Eldian citizens got access to their mail first, and had priority calls if they had to call someone. You could tell who the Eldians were by the paint on their front door.

Eldians had forest green paint, and non-Eldians had light red door paint.

It was blatantly racist, but Mark was profiting off of that same blatantly racist system.

So he couldn't complain.

" _That being said,"_ Mark thought, "I am glad I have a blue door." He said, finishing out loud.

The Inkwell's also wouldn't sponsor non-Eldians, saying that they didn't belong in Avalon, the country that the Inkwell's ruled over.

Avalon had been the site of the second Great Titan War, where millions of titans had been created when the royal family had attempted to wipe out the lands across the sea from the mainland of Marley.

They had apparently put titan spinal fluid into the _Amazon_ river, as the savages that they called locals called it.

Millions drank out of that river, and the titans created had subsequently destroyed those countries. The blood of the Eldians had spread across the whole world.

Conquest was just a contaminated water source away.

Even thinking about that many 'pure titans' made Mark shiver.

He typed his pin number into his own condo's front gate.

It authenticated for a moment, before confirming the pin number was correct, and the hydraulics pulled the gate back.

Mark stepped inside as the gate resumed its previous position. Closed.

He noted the ugly little toadstools on the side of his personal footpath, and he resolved to remove them later.

"Damn things," he said, opening his front door.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

Turning on the gas range, he set the pot on. He was making a traditional Eldian dish, Potsqua.

It was made by hollowing out potatoes and cutting the skins in two. The shells would then be stuffed with fatty meat, particularly that of a bovine nature, before being tied back together with gutstrings.

They were then boiled for twenty minutes, or until solid. If the meat wasn't well-done, it was not properly made.

The water left over would make for a terrific stock for a stew later in the week, and Mark was looking forward to using his mother's recipe.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

During the twenty-minute wait for the Potsqua to properly boil, he opened his government-supplied textbook on titan history, "Titans and Their Use in Warfare."

It was a modern book, with a stronger than average binding.

On the front cover was a picture of one of the old tapestries from the prison island of Paradise.

Clearing a workspace on the table, Mark grabbed a pencil and paper from his satchel. Getting comfortable on the cushioned seat of his chair, he looked around his dining room/kitchen combo.

There were still eighteen minutes until the meal would be ready.

Turning his attention back to the book, he turned to page 209 once more, being greeted by the grim sight of the Colossus titan.

As he read through the article, he noticed something. It didn't explain the crater behind the titan that was shown in the crater.

"Is that some sort of bomb test-site? It would make sense, but…"

Examining the photo more properly, he noticed that the titan's footprints came out of that crater.

"Does its transformation trigger an explosion? And of that size?"

One thought came to mind, subsequently.

" _Do the Mao-Zheng have aeroplanes?"_

The rest of the night, Mark was disturbed by visions of having that sort of explosion just being dropped on him. It was terrifying.

The crater had to be at least a kilometer wide.

It would vaporize the whole capital of Avalon.

But he couldn't do anything about it.

So he bull-shitted the questions and ate his dinner.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

The rest of the week until Thursday passed without consequence. But he couldn't stop thinking about that girl, and the article that the Mao-Zheng had written. It was certainly an effective piece of propaganda.

When he arrived to Titan History class on Thursday, he was oddly excited. He turned in his work, and was treated to an approving nod by the professor, who seemed to have recognized him for who he was.

Returning to his seat, he saw Maura sitting next to where he normally sat.

Not put off in the slightest, Mark sat right next to her.

"Hello, Maura," he said as he sat down, putting his satchel by his feet after removing the textbook from it.

A refined voice from the other side of Maura responded for her.

"That's Ms. Inkwell to you, young man. And it is good to meet someone Maura was looking forward to see again."

Time slowed down.

" _Inkwell? Am I sitting next to a member of the royal family?"_

Apparently the fear showed in his eyes, and Maura reassured him.

"Don't worry. I don't like being royalty, and I'm certainly not going to push someone that actually wanted to be friends with me as a person. That is what you wanted, yes?" She was afraid herself. The first person to find some appeal in her before finding out she was royalty was about to run away.

"It's...all okay. You seem interesting without the royalty part. If you would like to correspond outside of class, I would enjoy having someone to talk to, aside from my parents."

And Maura breathed out a sigh of relief.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

After watching a propaganda film from the Mao-Zheng about the sheer might of the Colossus Titan, the whole class was frightened.

The Mao-Zheng had apparently only recently recorded it and sent it across the world, with the hope of frightening foreign leaders.

The thing was 60 meters tall, and capable of destroying anything smaller than it.

It was documented in that video destroying entire battleships in a single blow.

The destructive power it possessed was truly massive, which befitted its size.

The tape ended on a close up of the Colossus's face as the film faded to black.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

After class, Mark exchanged phone numbers with Maura, and he formally met her butler and bodyguard, Reginald, who hated his name with a sincere passion.

"Call me Reggie," he'd insisted.

Mark had agreed readily. The seven foot tall Eldian was not someone to disagree with.

On accident, Mark accidentally touched Maura.

And he almost blacked out from the pain as what felt like a lightning bolt shot up his arm.

He grimaced mightily as Reggie helped him up.

"That's why no one is supposed to touch her."

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

The soft dirt underneath Mark's tired feet was a blessing. It had rained earlier that afternoon, which made his walk home far easier.

But something wasn't right. It was almost like he was being watched.

Off in the forest to the left of the access road home, was a spot without any noise at all.

And what his mother had taught him about complete silence rang true in his mind.

"Whenever there's complete silence in the forest, its because the animals there know that two things bigger and stronger than them are nearby. You, and something that they know won't get along with you."

Mark froze, as he saw through a break in the trees. A titan.

It was only about two meters tall, but it was definitely a titan.

Mark was freaking out. His heart was fluttering in his chest as he froze in place.

" _There hasn't been a sighting of a pure titan in the wild for almost a thousand years. What is one doing this far north? And why do I have to find it?"_

He reached into his satchel, going for the steel-bamboo machete that he carried for self-defense.

For once, he was going to need it.

He braced himself as the Titan slowed moved out of the treeline, and towards him...

Author's note: Please review. Pretty please.


	3. Survival of the Aware

The Sunken Spring: Chapter Three

Chapter Three: Survival of the Aware

The softened dirt that Mark stood his ground on was the only comfort he had right now. Everything else was in overdrive.

He had already opened up his shirt, so he could fight more comfortably. More comfortably, because his body had already sweated through it. His leg muscles were engorging with blood as his body prepared to flee.

Adrenaline filled his body, increasing his heart rate and energy levels.

The Titan was taller than him, but not by much.

Closer to two meters than three, it was a stout, rotund specimen. It had short, curly white hair, as well as a rather weighty belly. It almost certainly weighed close to six hundred pounds.

Its neck was bent at an odd angle, but even Mark in his terrified state could see that the Titan's eyes were on him wherever he moved.

The way it moved surely, yet sluggishly bothered him. It wasn't altogether that slow, but Mark could outrun it. The thuds of its footsteps drew ever closer, and the instinct to flee began to overwhelm him.

But he thought of the children back at the community. If he brought the titan back there, even if by accident, their blood would be on his hands.

He had to settle this here.

Turning toward the thing, he realized he only had one shot. He gripped his machete ever tighter. He was lucky he had packed it in his satchel earlier that day. It was based off of the bizarre weapons that the warriors of Paradise island had used thousands of years ago.

They had been able to kill titans, too.

"If I can't take out its eyes in one go, I'm done for. If I can get its eyes, and then get around it without making too much noise, I might be able to get at its nape."

He spoke out loud, purely by accident. He was so rattled that he was doing something that could get him killed.

After all the sound he produced, the titan moved considerably faster, lunging for him with an oddly carefree look on its face, even while dislocating its jaw to eat him.

Mark dropped his bag, and dodged to the side. But it wasn't enough. The titan still grabbed him, and lowered its mouth toward Mark, who saw his life flash before his eyes.

His grandmother's funeral. Age four.

Riding a bicycle for the first time, with his father watching closely nearby. Age seven.

Baking traditional hard pastries with his mother and aunt. Age ten.

Finding a book from Paradise island. Age fourteen.

Maura. Age 20.

He physically struggled with the titan, barely finding it in him to escape the full-body pin.

He slammed the titan off with a kick. That same kick broke two of Mark's ribs and cracked part of the cartilage in his spine.

He quickly adjusted himself before going for the kill.

" _GO FOR ITS EYES!"_ he thought, wielding the machete in his right hand.

He flew forward through the pain, thinking about his parents. They would be so proud of him for standing his ground and fighting.

In one fell swoop, his blade ripped through the eyes and eye sockets of the two and a half meter titan.

In fact, the blow ripped the titan's face clean in two, splitting it the whole way down to its skull and then some, slashing a considerable amount into the bone.

Mark's nearly-unconscious body slammed into the ground. He felt something snap.

He saw the titan, disoriented, unable to find its prey. There were some odd rainbow-colored lines connecting to its eyes out of thin air.

A word came to mind. Paths.

He was seeing what the connections that all Eldians shared. They were what caused regeneration, and the creation of titans.

He shrugged the thought off. He didn't have long, with such a pyrrhic victory.

He got up, and quietly trodded towards the titan. He quickly slipped behind it, making virtually no noise because of the wet dirt.

As it was hunched over, he got one clean shot at it.

He steeled his nerves, and swung with both hands and all of his might.

The blade slid right through the titans body, going left to right, severing its spine directly at the nape.

It was the sort of thing that would be replayed in an action movie from multiple angles.

Blood spattered onto his face and clothes.

It did catch on the right side of the titan's ribcage, but the regeneration of its body immediately stopped.

He'd killed it.

He fell to his knees, breathless.

"Holy fuck. First person to kill a pure titan in one thousand years. I'd better take a picture," he said, pulling his disposable camera out of his satchel, which was several feet away.

He used up all of the film, catching every phase of the titan's quick decomposition.

He started back towards the University. He had something to show them.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

The secretary at the main office buzzed him through, recognizing him as a student.

The president of the school was a member of the Inkwell family. He found the story that Mark presented extremely disturbing.

"You said this happened just down the road? How far?" The president said, asking the first of his questions.

"Right where the pine grove starts. There's a break in the trees. It came out of that spot exactly." Mark replied quietly.

"And why didn't you run?" The president seemed confused; at least, until he heard Mark's response.

"It could have hurt someone else, and I would have led it right to them. I couldn't allow that."

There seemed to be a shimmer of approval in the president's eyes. "My daughter talks about you a lot. I look forward to you visiting our home. Dismissed. We will discuss your reward for this information at a later date."

Mark gave up the camera as material evidence.

It was developed within hours. And as he sat in the infirmary, where his injuries were being treated, someone came up to him.

They took his picture, and then scurried away. They looked like a reporter, because their jacket had "WTOA" on it.

Worldwide Telecommunications of Avalon. The largest news source in the world. This was going to be everywhere, and he would certainly be hearing no end of it from his parents, and from everyone else.

And indeed. When the president offered him a ride home, he accepted.

"Thank you for your generosity, sir. That would be appreciated," he said, gesturing to his broken ribs.

He drove an old truck, which seemed to fit his personality. He didn't like waste, or over-indulgence. He was the one that had pushed the Mao-Zheng for a video and article on the Colossus. Just so that the children could understand the gravity of the life that they lived.

When he dropped Mark off, he mentioned just one thing.

"Watch for the six o'clock news."

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

Mark ate a simple TV dinner, which he heated up in the oven. He definitely didn't want to cook, so the metal try which went in the oven was a godsend. Mashed potatoes and barbequed pork. It made his insides tingle just thinking about it.

At around 5:47 PM, he settled in on his one armchair, and waited for his food to cool.

He'd tried to eat it right away before, and had burned his mouth rather severely.

This time, he waited. And waited. And waited some more. And it was 5:58 PM. He switched on his old television, and turned it to WTOA.

It was still covering the weather, and Mark started eating.

His feast was short-lived, as the headline story came on.

"Hello. I am Lance Stronton, with today's breaking news special. Today, we have a story of bravery, fear, and victory."

The headline across the screen stated: "2.5 Meter Titan Spotted and Killed by Brave Eldian."

"Today, a young student of the University of Inkwell named Mark Eldridge was walking home as he usually did, believing today to be a normal day. However, he was wrong, as on his walk home, he encountered something that hasn't been seen in Avalon for almost a thousand years. A pure titan. We've got the pictures here, folks. Patty, if you would."

The picture of the Titan with the massive cut across its back was prominently displayed on the screen. It also showed the partially healed cut on the titan's face.

"As you can see here, Mark first attacked the titan's face to disorient it. As the President of the University will later confirm, he darted behind it and got a clean shot at its nape, killing it instantly. Now onto a special interview with Alexander Inkwell, the President of the University, after the break to talk about our sponsors."

Immediately, Mark's phone started ringing.

"And that would be mom."

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

It was indeed his mother, who was freaking out, but also angry, and incredibly proud.

"I know why you did it. Your father and I are very proud of you. BUT WHAT IF"

And with that, Mark hung up. He would let her calm down, and call him back later.

He finished eating as the President concluded the interview.

"Anyone that wants to send him letters of thanks or gifts can send them to his mail locker here at the hospital, number two-hundred twenty-six. That is all. I'd like to thank WTOA for broadcasting this story."

Someone rang the gate bell, which was specifically wired in every house to make sound inside. He'd always been impressed with the public housing's technology.

He put on his utility boots, and went outside.

A young woman with two children stood at the gate. She called out to him.

"Aren't you Mark Eldridge?" There were tears in her eyes. She must have seen the broadcast.

He reached the gate and let her in.

"Yes. I'm Mark. Tell your children to mind the toadstools. They're poisonous."

They proceded into the house, and after the children were set up in front of the children, the mother took Mark into the kitchen.

"I saw what you did. And I heard what the President said. You thought of the children and people that lived here, and stood your ground. You're so brave. Thank you," she said, embracing him, "I'll never be able to thank you enough. My babies could be dead right now."

He let the young woman cry on his shoulder for a moment.

She pulled away, speaking up; "Is there anything you need? You don't seem very well off."

Mark started to tear up himself. "No. Thank you, but I do well enough."

The young mother pecked him on the cheek. "Well. I'm Amanda. If you ever do need anything, let me know. I'd be happy to help the man that put the safety of others before his own. I live in condominium 43, just down the lane."

She had brought a canvas bag with her. She insisted on making him a proper Eldian meal.

They ate, and were merry. In his heart, something felt off to Mark. He couldn't quite put his finger on it…

Maura.

He thought of her long after the mother took her children home.

His stomach was full, but his heart was empty.


	4. Nearing the End

The Sunken Spring: Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Nearing the End

In the dark mornings, Avalon was silent, aside from the road-cleaners finishing up their work.

A state-mandated process, it gave consistent jobs to many homeless and down-on-their-luck people. In a place up north, in the unofficial capital of Avalon, the road-cleaners were still hard at work, in the final step of refinishing the roads for daily use. Packing hard clay into a rolling machine, the workers lifted the roller, as it started to pour out a soft, liquid clay onto the road.

The finished product would last for the day, and be re-done the next night.

At 5:00 AM, the workers went their separate ways, after collecting their nights wages.

One specific crew had a young man by the name of Samuel. He was an outcast, and lived near the stream, on the side of the mountain.

After the earthquake a few days prior, the water had turned an odd color. So he hadn't drank from the stream since. Sam arrived back at his lean-two, and set up the fire for the night with the paper waste he found on his way to work.

He needed water to cook, so he set out for the stream.

As he leaned in to put his pot in the water, he remembered that earlier, the machines had blasted soot into his face. He dunked himself, and if anyone had been around, they would have seen a bright flash of light as he titanized.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

Belladonna Inkwell felt the thuds, laying in her bed. She was startled awake by them.

Those were the footsteps of a titan. Whether it was a shifter or not, she didn't know.

As the current holder of the founding titan, it was her job to deal with threats like these. Her body often disagreed with her need to transform in her old age, but her mind was as sharp as ever.

She quickly got out of bed, and grabbed the knife from her bedside table. It was the same one she'd used for transformations the last twelve years, and her husband had forged and used it before her.

She had been forced to eat him, those twelve years ago.

She still couldn't forget it.

She had given him one last sorrowful look, and as she pressed down on the plunger of the syringe, he'd mouthed the words "I love you." There wasn't a day that went by where she didn't miss him dearly.

The whole ground shook, the old china in her cabinets clattering.

The titan was too close. Her son and grandchildren lived right next to her, in the old familial home.

She went out onto her balcony, and was unsurprised by what she saw. A fifteen meter titan, less than thirty feet down the slope. Her house was on massive stilts, made by her husband when he hardened his titan form onto the slope, providing the perfect platform for their new home, when Alexander desired to possess the familial home.

As the titan moved into the light, she could see its facial features much more clearly.

It had a hooked nose, and small, beady eyes. Its lips were thin, and drawn into a frown. Black hair wasn't easy to see in the dark, so since she couldn't see its hair, she assumed it was black.

It seemed like a normal enough titan. "Definitely not an abnormal," she said.

It continued to climb up towards her, and she opened the gate at the edge of the balcony. It was made for this very purpose.

She stabbed through her own hand viciously, tearing nerves and tendons, before quickly shoving the knife back in her nightgown's front pocket and jumping off the edge.

The night was shattered by a violent clap of thunder, and a bright flash of light, as the paths formed her titans body, pulling the flesh from the source of all living matter.

It was muscular and chiseled. It had an androgynous body, as the breasts and hips of the original form she'd had had only gotten in the way when it came to combat.

It was lithe and had thin, blonde hair that was fashioned in a very wild looking pixie cut.

Her titan had very small, closely gathered facial features, not unlike the titan of Frieda Reiss, of which she had seen through the memories of the past kings.

Of course, her titan also had the trademark purple-blue eyes indicative of the Founding Titan.

She grabbed the head of the pure titan, and threw it down the incline, hard; her titan's arm cracked powerfully as it broke the sound barrier.

Pushing off of the side of the mountain, the entire thing shook as she propelled herself forward.

She had a family to protect. And there was no way she was going to lose to a single pure titan.

Landing bodily near where the pure titan collided with the ground, she saw that the impact had shattered most of the internal structures of the titan's body. It was struggling to regenerate, and Belladonna knew better than to let it.

She wouldn't be able to transform more than once. Her body didn't even have the stamina to control the pure titans anymore, much less transform more than once. That strong of a connection to the paths was for shifters far earlier along in their stint.

She leapt onto the pure titan, ripping its head off and tearing out its spine with her teeth.

She used her titan to climb back up the slope, before going to talk to Alexander. He deserved to know what was going on.

It had to be the Sunken Spring.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

Maura awoke to hear her father and her grandmother arguing. She got up, and listened for their voices more closely.

"Mom, that's the second one in a week! Don't you think that we should get to the bottom of this?"

Her father sounded afraid.

"Alexander! I am the owner of the Founding Titan. Do not doubt me. I already know what's wrong. But I cannot do anything about it. I won't be able to transform again for about a week without risking my own welfare in the process. My body is wrapping up its processes as we speak, as the vessel has finished its purpose. I will die in less than a month. Don't let me die without passing this power on properly." Her grandmother spoke so forcefully compared to her son.

"Speaking of, have you decided who will inherit the will of the world? You have been looking through the memories of every past king to find some insight into what makes for a good ruler, but you've never said anything to any of us about your decision. And we need to know, ma."

Maura found it hard to tune them out, as she imagined being told to follow the rest of the family down into the crystal chamber under her house.

Being handed a syringe. Looking up at her grandmother, who would smile lovingly at her, as if to say; "I will miss you most of all."

"Maura will inherit the will of the world. She will become the new holder of the Founding Titan before this month is through. I ask that you prepare her for it. Now, goodnight, Alexander. I love you." By the end of what she had to say, Maura was trembling in fear. Frozen in place, and too afraid to even lay down. She started to cry, as her worst fears became a reality right beyond her bedroom door.

It sounded like her father and grandmother were crying, too.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

Mark was awoken in the middle of the night by his phone ringing. Stumbling out of bed, he almost ran into the sliding door that separated his room from the living room.

Reaching the phone next to his armchair, he answered.

"Hello? This is Mark speaking," he said as he sat down in his chair, the extendable cord coming very much in handy.

"Mark, it's Maura. I'm...afraid. I can't tell you why. But I just need to talk to you. Across the past week, we've gotten to know more about each other, and grown as friends. I trust you. Can we talk for a little bit?" She certainly sounded afraid of something.

"Yes. I got out of bed to answer the phone. Might as well, you know?" Mark felt a bit odd, and his chest felt a little warm.

Who was he fooling?

"I would actually love to talk to you. There doesn't need to be a reason." He was oddly happy to talk to her.

"Well, thank you. Because I just heard my dad and grandmother arguing, and they said something that I probably shouldn't have heard. Something concerning my future."

Through the haze of his sluggish night-mind, Mark realized that he probably could figure out what was wrong. He just had a feeling.

"Does it have to deal with being a member of the royal family? Because I know that every thirteen years, something big happens. I can't exactly put my finger on it, but that's just because I'm tired."

He heard her audibly start hyperventilating.

"Whoa whoa whoa. What's wrong," he asked, speaking directly into the receiver.

She continued to hyperventilate ever faster.

And faster. And faster.

She hung up, without so much as another word.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

He woke up the next day with an aching back, and someone ringing his front gate's bell.

He'd apparently fallen asleep on his armchair.

Getting up haphazardly, he shrugged his coat on, and pushed his boots onto his sock-covered feet.

Opening the front door, he saw that it was Maura's father. Alexander Inkwell, the president of the University of Inkwell.

Striding up to the front gate, he offered a polite greeting.

"Hello, Mr. Inkwell. What brings you to my humble abode," he asked, opening the gate.

"Discussion of your reward. I have come to discuss you coming to stay with my family, and moving out of this public housing. You're good for Maura, and I would prefer to see your relationship actually last. Allowing you two to interact in person will foster that relationship until it's stable enough to move forward." He hadn't noticed that Alexander was shorter than him until now, as he stepped inside Mark's own front gate.

"Please, do come in. We clearly have plenty to talk about."

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

By the end of the next week, Mark was packed and ready to go. Talking to Maura over the phone was still the highlight of his day, and once, Reggie even let them have lunch together.

It was a good time, and they had a traditional meal, with fresh chicken and flatbreads.

They didn't talk about much, considering that whenever one talked, the other blushed. Reggie Ackerman, the ass that he was, wouldn't let them hear the end of it.

But by the end of their quasi-first-date, they both felt surprisingly at ease.

Mark still felt that ease as he stood just outside of his condominium, the front gate propped open.

It was time to leave this place he called home.

Author's Note: Sorry about the slow-going nature of this fanfic. Not every fanfiction starts like a bolt of lightning.

But if you stay to the end of this fanfiction, I can guarantee that it'll end with a bolt of lightning.


	5. Changing Landscapes

The Sunken Spring: Chapter Five

Chapter Five: Changing Landscapes

Belladonna contemplated the kind of titan serum she would put in the syringe. She certainly wanted her granddaughter's base titan form to be powerful, so looking at the cases in her lap, she selected the vial that listed "proportional and fast."

She remembered having turned a prisoner of war into that titan ten years prior. A routine thing, they often extracted as much as two or three bottles of spinal fluid from each titan, once they were restrained.

She had only done it five times other than the young man she was currently remembering.

An Azumbito-Eldian, his genetics enhanced his titan form.

He had been difficult to defeat, even if his titan had only been thirteen meters in height.

She still remembered getting blindsided because his pure titan form was abnormal. It jumped at her, and had pinned her to the ground.

Back then, she had still been able to force him to kneel using the power of the Founding Titan, and she knocked the top of its head off.

Her son had quickly siphoned out the spinal fluid before it was exposed to air. She still remembered writing the label she was looking at.

This position at the top of the world was certainly difficult at times.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

One thing Mark always strived to remember was how to be humble. And the reason why one should strive to be humble.

As he loaded the moving truck with his modest belongings, he couldn't help but feel small.

Looking down the lane towards condominium number 43, he was heartened to see the children playing cheerfully.

Such purity was rare, in times like these.

He felt a pang of sadness. He'd likely never see them again.

But that was alright. It would have to be.

Alexander Inkwell sat in the driver's seat of the truck, patiently reading and waiting for Mark to be done loading up his things.

Mark couldn't help but shiver, even in the warmth of the morning.

Something about today felt off, like something was coming to an end.

Something would never be the same again.

"I just wish I knew what it was," he said, pushing his last box into the back.

He was certain something was about to change.

Somewhere else.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

In a cold, bright place, across a vast ocean, were the two islands called Albion.

On one patch of coastline, a special ceremony was taking place. At a spot where a cliff had beach far below, a man was chained to the rocky face about ten meters from the ground.

He stood on top of a small rocky ledge, made specifically for this purpose.

The white rock almost seemed to glimmer with excitement, for soon, it would be spattered with blood.

A boat approached the coastline. A party of three, not including the crew, inhabited the small steamship.

A tall, weathered man stood next to two common folk. A father, and a son.

They were to duel to save each other.

Traditionally, a pair of father and son were made to fight here, on the beach called Salann. They fought until one was incapacitated. The loser would be saved. The winner would condemn himself to the Curse of Ymir.

For you see, Albion held the Armored Titan, and had for more than a thousand years.

This is how it had always been. The tall man pulled out two leather sheaths. Longswords.

"Gentlemen. As this cycle comes to a close, another begins. Do you both promise to not hold back a single iota of your willpower and strength?!" he shouted at them vigorously, making sure they understood.

The responded at the same time.

"Yes," they said, both taking a sword from the man.

Their boat hit the sandy shore.

The anchor wasn't even thrown down.

"Then, as your King, fight well. I will be waiting, with my back turned, as it always has been done." He pulled something out of his pocket. Opening it, he revealed an already-loaded injection of titan spinal fluid.

"Your honor in supporting your country comes with victory. The winner will start the next cycle. Fight well, and as the victor...shout at the top of your lungs. Be careful not to kill each other."

The son sheathed the sword onto his belt, and jumped down into the shin-deep water. Dahmien, as his name was, shuddered under the fear of letting his father face such a terrible fate, was emboldened.

Cragen, the father, nodded at the King. He, too, jumped off of the boat. He steadied himself with his sword, jabbing it into the coarse sand before hauling himself up.

He shivered because of the mist.

The two knew how the ritual was to be performed.

They marched to the cracked stone platform in the middle of the beach.

Each drew their blade as they touched upon the brittle stone, bringing the edges to their right palms, spilling blood.

Each man let the blood drip until they reached halfway across the platform. They then began to walk around the inner perimeter of the platform, as indicated by a smaller circle engraved into the monument.

As the stone absorbed the blood into its porous structure, it began to glow. At around the same time, the stone turned a light purplish-blue, and they had each gone around the circle twice.

Some old piece of magic within the macabre place forced them to turn away from each other.

In the old tongue, the father called out to his son; "Farewell."

In the old tongue, the son called out to his father;

"Farewell."

And the pact in blood was sealed.

They turned to face one another.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

" _ **RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"**_ Dahmien roared, his voice almost breaking.

He'd cut his father from shoulder to hip, knocking him out. " _He'll survive,"_ Dahmien thought.

Having already accepted his fate, he sat on the platform, waiting for the boat to return to shore.

After only three minutes of waiting, there was a thud, before a splash indicated that the King was coming ashore.

"Well done. It's not often that the son defeats the father." His words of praise lauded the young man, raising his spirits to a fever pitch.

"I know. You're going to take him now, yes?" Dahmien wasn't the most excited for this next part.

The King nodded, before picking Cragen up, throwing him over his shoulder. The cut wasn't too deep, so he would be fine either way.

The king laid the syringe's case on the ground.

"You know what to do. Right arm, into the most visible vein. Make sure you're on the platform. The beach can't take the blast from the transformation." The King said, as he walked back towards the ship.

The King, being a rather strong man, lifted Cragen above his head, throwing him onto the ship's deck with a massive heave.

Turning back to Dahmien for just a moment before he lifted himself up, he bowed to him. His knees touched the ground, as did his hands. The deepest deference a king could show.

The real ruler of Albion was the holder of the Armored Titan.

This was the one time where the King was forced to acknowledge that. Maximillion, as his given name was, touched his forehead to the sand.

"Rise," Dahmien said quietly, "and go."

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

It had been five minutes. Dahmien had taken this opportunity to take off his clothes, knowing that it would be best for him to just wear a loincloth for this next part.

His trousers and jacket were placed in a cavity inside the cliff. His socks and boots were left by the cliff as well.

He returned back to the platform. Looking up to the previous wielder, he bowed in deference.

The man had been the father of the previous cycle. A man from Baldwin. His son hadn't the ferocity to defeat him.

"May your soul find peace," Dahmien whispered.

He heard a soft voice whisper back;

"And yours as well."

Reaching down to the ground, Dahmien picked up the syringes case. Rainbow-colored lines shot out of it, wrapping around his right hand. The paths of legend.

As his forefathers had seen, so had he.

He gently opened the case, unsnapping the buckles. Gingerly, he pulled out the syringe with his left hand. Dropping the case to the ground, it made a clattering noise.

Finding the most prominent vein in his arm, he pushed just a drop of the liquid out. It fizzed on his arm, evaporating.

Sliding the needle in, he looked up at the previous wielder. He nodded, and pushed the plunger the whole way down.

He felt a soft tingle travel throughout his body, and up his spine...

His whole world disappeared in a thunderclap, and everything went white.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

Eruk Clarvengnorn had done well in life. He'd defeated his son and defended his honor. He had personally opposed the Mao-Zheng at every turn.

He sighed as the young man's titan formed around him.

"Ah. A fifteen-meter class," he said, looking up at it.

It had a smaller lower body, with undersized legs and hips, but its arms and shoulders were massive, at least fifty percent larger than even Eruk's own titan form. Its hair was shaggy and black.

Its body was covered in sparse hair.

Eruk approved. Looking into the titan's large, hazel eyes, Eruk slowly relaxed before the end came. He closed his eyes.

He felt breath around his head, and smelled flesh.

Feeling the paths tingle around him one last time, as the teeth tore into his neck, he was oddly at ease.

His thoughts disappeared, and his consciousness faded into nothing.

Dahmien's titan shook for a moment as the paths connected to a new host.

And lightning struck the same place twice.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

The first thing Dahmien did when he came to was jump off of his decomposing titan's body. He hadn't lost his memories, as his host had gone peacefully into the darkness.

Landing badly on his bum leg, he felt his femur fracture.

Immediately, before the pain could even register, his leg heated up, creating a large amount of steam.

Hobbling to where he'd stowed his clothes, his ears were greeted by the sound of an anchor dropping, and several sets of footsteps joined the auditory cacophony as he dressed himself in his modest garments.

He turned around to everyone but the King bowing.

He immediately went down on one knee.

"Your Majesty. It is an honor."

The King smiled. A new cycle had finally begun.

All of Albion could celebrate tonight.


	6. Memories of Days Past

The Sunken Spring: Chapter Six

Chapter Six: Memories of Days Past

Belladonna Inkwell was feeling nostalgic. Her daughter-in-law, a wonderful woman, had been knitting for a very long time. For almost forty years. Sarah Inkwell, as she was called after her marriage to Alexander, had found a photograph of Belladonna as a young woman.

Sarah herself was only fifty-four, and while she wasn't thin, she also wasn't overweight. Her daughter, Maura, inherited her thin blonde hair from her mother, for certain.

She had noticed a knit hat on Belladonna's head, in the photograph.

Sarah had nothing better to do. She didn't handle any of the family's affairs. She cooked, cleaned, and did other household things.

So she figured out a pattern that would prove similar to the hat in the photograph.

And she made it.

She left it on the counter when she dropped off Belladonna's wash. Her house was the one with a washing machine. It was certainly very difficult to get new pipes through hardened titan tissue.

So when the advent of the washing machine had come around thirty some-odd years prior, they hadn't bothered with putting in new pipes.

When Belladonna got up to get her wash, she'd come face-to-face with relic of her past.

And she'd been truly happy.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

As was usual for her, Belladonna went for her walk. She struggled to move effectively, as the last transformation had taken a lot out of her. But that was okay. She wasn't going to let the end of her life take away what little independence she had left.

Walking up the steps her husband's titan form had carved out of the rock, Belladonna remembered him fondly.

She was rapidly aging, even faster than usual. You wouldn't have thought she was younger than eighty-five. In reality, she was seventy-four.

Even so, she still had to keep some things the same, as her time came to an end.

She hadn't learned to drive, becoming increasingly dependent on her family for outside goods and information. Just because she held the power of the Founding Titan didn't mean that everyone wanted to spend time with her.

She was used to being lonely. After she was selected to eat her husband, nothing was ever quite as bright or colorful. It was like part of her soul had been taken away. The paths, however, allowed her to see the memories of days past. She was able to see with how much ferocity he'd fought against the previous user of the War-Hammer Titan.

His titan form hadn't been up to par, but he had an odd ability. He created an illusion using the paths, making it appear as though there were hundreds of pure titans on the battlefield.

The countries of Rolskï and Avalon were still at war because of that fateful battle. Rolskï was at war with the majority of the world. But they held the powerful combination of the Jaw and War-Hammer Titans. Only the Jaw Titan or the Founding Titan could effectively defeat a seasoned user of the War-Hammer. But Lionel had made it work, and defeated both of them. And the propaganda from Rolskï always included pictures of the battlefield where Lionel Inkwell "savagely killed civilians and shifters alike."

Not because Lionel had won, but because he showed them mercy. The Rolskïan, as they were called, had rioted about the defeat of their two strongest weapons against the rest of the world. Because the culture of Rolskï was mostly about strength, and controlling as much as they could. When the defeat of the shifters became public, their immediate execution via pure titan was announced the same day because of the riots.

Children were trampled by their own parents. Fires lit up all of the major cities. And the houses of all of the major politicians were firebombed. Until the government announced the execution of the shifters, the riots killed more than twenty-thousand people, and multiple cities burned to the ground.

Lionel had been horrified, and Belladonna had been horrified with him.

The worst part was that the majority of the deaths were those of children. Lionel had admitted that he would have lost on purpose had he known that so many would die as a result of him winning. His hair had started falling out immediately after the riots, the stress of it all getting to him. Belladonna watched as his mental state declined, and she'd taken care of him until the very end.

Honestly, she was more tired than she would ever admit to being. After the paths started to disconnect from her, preparing to release her body and soul, it had only gotten worse. Her body had become too frail to survive another transformation.

As she returned back home early, Sarah watched from the familial home on the edge of the mountain.

"She's barely moving. That poor woman."

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

Alexander and Mark were about halfway to the familial home of the Inkwells. Thankfully, Mark had been spared any more awkward conversation about his budding relationship with Maura. He did love her, but it was awkward having her family be so involved with their relationship so early on. And Alexander Inkwell had been blessedly silent aside from the occasional jibe. So Mark was spared.

Instead, he'd been given a very interesting book to read.

One of Alexander's personal favorites, it was an account of the Second Great War, which had happened fourteen-hundred years prior.

"What's this," he had mumbled to himself.

"Just something my father wrote. He was the previous King of the World. The last holder of the Founding Titan. The book you're holding holds the answers to many questions. Read it. You have about three hours." Alexander had said, starting the ignition of the moving truck.

Written by Alexander's father, Lionel Inkwell. The previous holder of the power of the Founding Titan. He'd had a particularly strong connection to the memories of the past, despite his...weakness, in other areas of shifting abilities.

The foreword had stated; "My special connection to the memories of the past Kings of the World made it easy for me to write this. For me, looking through their memories is easier than looking through my own. I hope you find this to be an enlightening account of the Second Great War."

Lionel was particularly sickly, for a user of the Coordinate. He'd always had a terrible cough. Chronic bronchitis, was what his doctors said it was.

His titan form was only twelve meters tall, and despite him practicing intensely, he never became as powerful as even the average shifter.

The book's contents, however, contained so much of Lionel's departed soul, that the paths in the average Eldian would connect to it, making the image appear in their mind's eye.

Which is what happened to Mark, whose eyes widened as light flashed before his eyes, and he was transported somewhere else, in both time and space. All within his mind.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

In the beginning of the book, Lionel's writing started with a description of the destruction of Paradise.

Paradise was being overwhelmed. The Walls themselves had been demolished, and the titans that had once been inside them turned against the inhabitants of the island.

All at the command of one young man. The son of Zeke Yeager, who had been the last free member of the Eldian royalty.

And the current holder of the Founding Titan.

After his uncle had died, the powers of the War-Hammer Titan, the Attack Titan, and the Founding Titan had been transferred to random children.

The child with the transferred power of the Founding Titan had gotten a small cut, triggering a transformation in which she crushed several people to death. That event had taken place within the walls, and the people that died were able to point to where her titan had stumbled off to. Into the forest.

She'd been captured by the Yeagerists, and Zeke's young son had been forced to inject himself.

He ate a baby. Even as a titan, it had bothered him for the rest of his short life.

As he torched Paradise to the ground, he laughed.

The descriptions then changed to that of an older, scruffier man.

Many inheritors later, the battle had moved to a land far away. A place the Eldian settlers called Avalon.

A colossal titan was forced to walk alongside a caravan by the current holder of the Founding Titan. A young man named Tervünn. Tervünn sat in the carriage with his pregnant wife, as they followed a river that would eventually branch into another.

They traveled for many, many miles, finally reaching a place where the larger river started.

A roaring centerpiece of the world south of what scholars called the equator, it was a muddy brown from the speed it moved at. It scraped away the bottom of its own riverbed.

Tervünn had jumped out of the carriage, running away from the rest of the party. Biting the skin of his forearm open, he grimaced in pain before transforming.

His titan bore a striking resemblance to that of the 145th king. It was slightly smaller, and had shorter teeth, as well as having a stockier build, that certainly didn't appear malnourished. But his connection to the paths was excellent, and he forced the colossal titan to lay in the river, where it submerged its spine.

Walking into the river behind it, Tervünn's titan ripped open the colossal's spinal cord, releasing hundreds of gallons of spinal fluid into the water. Contaminating it. Because, unlike pure alcohol, which evaporates out of water and is indeed similar in chemical construct to titan spinal fluid, titan spinal fluid doesn't evaporate away when mixed with another liquid.

And even one part per million of titan spinal fluid could trigger a titanization in an Eldian when ingested orally.

Several days later, the locals started to titanize.

A swath of death so shocking and horrifying spread as far as the eye could see was what followed.

Hundreds of thousands of titans spread across the southern half of the world, crossing a land bridge raised by Tervünn himself to a place eminent scientists called the southern pole. Which just so happened to be connected by another, natural land bridge to a place called Mao-Zheng.

Millions died.

When a nation spoke poorly of Eldia, people got eaten. It was a rule of thumb for a long time.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

In the remnants of the nation of Marley, which had been under the thumb of Eldia for a long time indeed, a young woman had infiltrated a laboratory. A very special laboratory. One of Titan Science, which the nation of Marley was very proud of.

The woman's long, dark hair cast a shadow on her face, making it hard to see. But she was clearly an Eldian, by the armband that Eldians traditionally wore in Marley.

She had managed to slip her foot in the bottom of a door, entering after a delivery man.

Preparing her razor blade, she slipped it out of her mouth, where she'd been carefully concealing it. She dried it on her tight-fitting black jumpsuit, which was made to withstand the conditions inside of a titan.

Her name was Loren Weítz, and she was a spy. But not just any spy. She was the user of the Jaw Titan.

And she'd been sent from her home country to destroy Marley's titan research. Her job was to leave no one alive. She'd been invited from her home in the country by none other than the Prime Minister himself.

"Leave no one alive and leave no structure standing," her prime minister had instructed her.

The user of the War-Hammer was just two miles away. If she transformed early, he would know that she was in trouble and intervene. Everyone knew that Marley had anti-titan artillery. So the War-Hammer was Rolskï's insurance plan for her defeat.

She rounded the corner, and came face to face with a guard.

He leveled his gun at her; "Halt!" he shouted in the common tongue.

She sighed, and slid the razor blade down her arm.

"Why do you people always figure me out so quickly?" She seemed annoyed as the air around her started to spark.

The guard appeared confused by this action. His hesitation to shoot got him splattered on the wall to his left, as her Titan form shot forward out of a loud, bright explosion.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

Gerrick sat inside a very inconspicuous barrel in the middle of town. Really, it was less sitting, and more laying, as the barrel was on its side. He was to remain in position until Loren transformed. He had been briefed by the commander, who had gotten him the ferry ticket to Marley, as well as the fake documents that had allowed him to board it.

"If the sunset outside the barrel isn't gone when she transforms, you transform too, and demolish the base. Kill them all. Leave none of their...specimens...alive, either."

And he'd been waiting inside that barrel for only about forty minutes when he felt the ground shake slightly.

Looking at the hole in the barrel, what did he know, but there was still plenty of sunset left to go.

"Well. Guess this whole town is getting razed to the ground."

He removed a narrow wooden case from his pocket, and opened it. Inside were about five razor blades which were made of a mysterious new metal. "What are these made of again?" he said, not knowing there was someone walking by the barrel, taking a shortcut through the alleyway.

He heard someone draw in breath, and knew he was about to be discovered.

"Well shit," he said, putting the case back in his pocket, "less refined methods will have to do."

He bit into his arm, hard. Drawing blood, the air around him sparked, and then exploded as the paths drew energy from the surroundings to create his titan's body.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

Loren was busy ripping through the entire complex when Gerrick, in full titan form, appeared. He ripped off the top half of the guard tower that Loren's titan was inhabiting the bottom of.

Pausing in her mutilation of the guard, she threw the limp body to the side, cracking a wall. She looked up, waiting for him to speak, in his own, very garbled way.

His version of the War-Hammer was less refined than the usual incarnation, not sporting the snow-white sheen of flesh nor its signature cowl.

His version bore many similarities to the Attack Titan of Grisha Yeager from eons past, if the illustrations by Lionel Inkwell were to be believed.

Stocky of build but with less overall hair than Grisha's titan form had had, he spoke through a lipless mouth:

" **The town has been razed. Leave the rest of this to me. Get to the checkpoint, at the bend in the river."**

Loren didn't have to be told twice, leaping out of the hole in the ceiling, and racing off into the distance.

aaaaaTSSaaaaa

As Mark and Alexander came into town, they passed the lake. Mark was still deeply reading the book Lionel had wrote, as it was a complete account from the point of view of every Founding Titan that had had a role in the war.

But unbeknownst to Mark, he shivered a little as they passed the lake.

The foreboding chilled his bones, but not his mind.

They sped through the lanes of the town, before arriving at the place where everything began.

Alexander seemed to become more at ease the closer to his ancestral home they got. And when they finally arrived, they both let out sighs of relief.

The cliffs of Avalon. The ancestral birthplace of the first Inkwell.

Author's note: If you've read this far, you should review. But who am I to tell you what to do.

This is MeridianPine, signing off.


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